


The Senses

by Slyst



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post-Canon, SO MUCH FLUFF, Scents & Smells, Senses, Sex, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-24 07:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20702507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slyst/pseuds/Slyst
Summary: The boys indulging in eachother and each of the five senses.Each chapter will focus on a different pairing and a different sense.





	1. Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Just fluff, it's all just fluffy fluff fluff. Everyone is a sap, and everyone is in love. However I wanted to try and work more with the different senses so, you get this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroko and Akashi indulge in their sense of sight.

Akashi always saw Kuroko. He saw the phantom when everyone else passed by him unknowingly. He watched him when he played basketball. Small, work calloused hands passing the ball around like an extension of himself. Blue hair running around the court, dazzling spectators and players alike with his skill and determination. Akashi loved Kuroko’s love of basketball. After all it had brought them together in the end.

Akashi always saw Kuroko. He saw him when the phantom thought he wasn’t watching. Blue eyes sparkling with the light of the sun when they were outside, or glimmering with a sheen of tears after a particularly heart wrenching movie. He loved the way he looked when he was drinking a vanilla milkshake, all smiles and brilliant blue eyes shining with bliss. Akashi loved Kuroko’s love of vanilla milkshakes. It was easily his favourite flavour now.

Akashi always saw Kuroko. He saw him in the throws of ecstasy, his skin sweaty, body blushing pink from his orgasm as he writhed on the bed. He loved the way Kuroko looked under him naked, all wanton and needy, begging Akashi for more. He watched the phantom as he moved around, red marks vibrant against his pale bare skin. Akashi loved Kuroko’s love of sex and intimacy. It was where Akashi could allow himself to be free, to let go and show his feelings.

Akashi always saw Kuroko. He saw the phantom as he stood waiting for him at the train station, periwinkle hair neon against the grey winter sky. Akashi watched the way azure eyes lit up when they spied matching reds. In a move so unlike himself Akashi dropped his bag, arms coming up to catch the phantom throwing himself into Akashi’s arms. Akashi loved Kuroko’s love for him. After all, he loved him too.

* * *

Kuroko noticed Akashi. He noticed him when his brow was creased in worry about his family and what his future might hold. He saw red eyes battling between propriety and pure want, the shadow of his other self fighting for control he’d never get. Kuroko noticed when Akashi would resolve himself to give in to his need, to let himself have. Kuroko loved Akashi’s determination for them to work. The phantom would do anything for the redhead.

Kuroko noticed Akashi. He saw the slight smile the redhead gave whenever he ate his favourite food, eyes crinkling at the corners. Kuroko loved it when Akashi smiled because he always smiled with his eyes too, so full and completely open even if only for a moment. Kuroko loved Akashi’s love for tofu soup. Nothing made a cold winter day warmer than Akashi’s smile and a hot bowl of his favourite food.

Kuroko noticed Akashi. He watched pink, kiss swollen lips bite and suck at the skin on his inner thigh, leaving trails and marks in their wake. He would see the intense look of wonder in Akashi’s eyes as he entered Kuroko, sliding his cock deep into his body. his arms shaking with restraint. Kuroko loved Akashi’s ability to make him come undone, to give himself over completely to the redhead. He trusted Akashi completely.

Kuroko noticed Akashi. He noticed when the redhead stepped off the train, eyes searching the crowd for him. It never took long before red eyes set upon blue, a smile illuminating Akashi’s face at the sight of the phantom. Kuroko’s heart clenched at the sight and he found himself rushing over to greet the redhead, throwing his arms around him in a tight hug. Kuroko loved Akashi’s eyes, and the love he saw there. After all, he loved him back.


	2. Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himuro and Atsushi indulge in their sense of taste.

Himuro always knew the taste of Atsushi. He knew when the giant had been baking. The sweet taste of sugar and vanilla icing coating his mouth and tongue, almost intoxicating in its potency. He could taste the bitterness of the dark chocolate used for the cake, so silky and smooth in its flavour, the richness overwhelming and heady. Himuro loved the taste of Atsushi when he was baking. He could live happily without sweets as long as he had his kisses.

Himuro always knew the taste of Atsushi. He could tell when Atsushi had been snacking, which was always. A mixture of sweet and salty inundating his senses from pocky, or seaweed, or whatever snacks had been on hand that day. Sugary drinks sticky on his lips and mouth. Himuro loved the taste of Atsushi when he was snacking. Eating was such a big part of Atsushi that Himuro would never wish otherwise.

Himuro always knew the taste of Atsushi. When they were in bed sweaty and hot, Himuro could taste the musky heat of the taller boy’s skin on his tongue. The action wringing out delicious moans that Himuro drank out of Atsushi’s mouth like water in a desert, the taste of himself salty on his tongue. Himuro loved the taste of Atsushi in bed. He could read Atsushi’s feelings so easily just by a kiss.

Himuro always knew the taste of Atsushi. He knew the taste of Atsushi in morning through lazy kisses and hazy dreams. He missed his taste on the weekends when the other boy went home to see his family. Coming back tasting of homecooked baking and his favourites foods, yet still hungry for Himuro, devouring him like they’d been separated for weeks as opposed to days. Himuro loved the taste of Atsushi after a weekend away. Atsushi tasted like home.

* * *

Atsushi’s favourite snack was Himuro. He could always tell when he had made dinner even without the smell of the food wafting through the air. His kisses tasted like the wine used for cooking and soy sauce. It was easily his favourite way to taste Himuro, so starved and greedy for it after a day at school. Atsushi loved the taste of Himuro in the evening. He loved it when Himuro spoiled him with food and kisses.

Atsushi’s favourite snack was Himuro. Nothing was as sweet as the other boy’s kisses. It was one place where pocky and nerunerunerune couldn’t compared. While they were filling physically they couldn’t fill Atsushi’s heart like the taste of Himuro’s lips against his own. He tasted like the rain on a cool spring day, the snow on a frigid winter morning, the wind on a cold fall day, and the sun on a hot summer day. Atsushi loved the taste of Himuro all year around. He thought he rather liked the seasons nowadays.

Atsushi’s favourite snack was Himuro. He loved the feel of the other boy’s cock in his mouth, hot and heavy with arousal, the taste of salt and sweat thick on his tongue. Atsushi loved doing this to Himuro, wringing out those sounds, precome dribbling steadily down his throat as he drank it all down eagerly. Atsushi loved the taste of Himuro's sex. Nothing tasted as good as a sated and happy Himuro, not even nerunerunerune.

Atsushi’s favourite snack was Himuro. Nothing was as satisfying after a weekend away than the taste of his lover. He loved the sweet slide of Himuro’s mouth against his own, his tongue tasting and licking away the flavours that weren’t himself. As much as he loved his family nothing was quite a good as the taste of Himuro after a weekend away, so sweet with the taste of his affection. He loved the taste of Himuro on weekends. It was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fans self*


	3. Hearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shintarou and Takao indulge in their sense of hearing.

Takao was always listening to Shintarou. He listened when Shintarou told him about his lucky item and about who was in what place that day. He listened to the way Shintarou’s voice changed, talking quickly and more excitedly when it was about horoscopes. He knew when Cancer was in first place by the confident lilt in the miracle’s voice in the morning. Takao could hear Shintarou’s feelings even through the words he was speaking. He could hear what Shintarou couldn’t say.

Takao was always listening to Shintarou. He could tell when Shintarou was mad by how low and rough his voice got, all sharp and jagged around the edges. He knew when Shintarou was happy, his voice always had a softer tone, something he often used when speaking to Takao. When Shintarou was sad he was quiet, his voice sombre and monotone. Takao could hear Shintarou even when he didn’t speak. Shintarou’s voice was music to his ears.

Takao was always listening to Shintarou. He knew the different ways to please and kiss his lover just from the sound of his breath or a muffled moan. Shintarou didn’t have to speak for Takao to know how to touch him, how to walk his fingers down firm abs to caress and stroke his leaking cock. He could hear it in the quiet whisper of his name, through the sharp intake of breath. Takao could hear Shintarou even through his actions. He could hear the love in them.

Takao was always listening to Shintarou. Even when they were lying in bed on a quiet Sunday morning. Takao could hear the steady beat of Shintarou’s heart from where his head rested on his chest. This heart which had let Takao in, let him hear the parts of Shintarou that nobody else did. Hear the things nobody else could hear. He knew that one day with age his hearing might fade, but, Takao, Takao could always hear Shintarou, even without sound.

* * *

Shintarou liked to hear Takao. Takao was loud, and boisterous. Takao found joy and laughter in nearly everything and made sure Shintarou knew it. Shintarou often found himself smiling and even almost laughing along with the point guard. Takao’s laughter was like a drug, when you heard it once, you found yourself wanting it more and more. Shintarou loved it when Takao laughed. It made him feel like, perhaps, he could laugh too.

Shintarou liked to hear Takao. He could hear the easy affection and genuine feelings that always coloured the point guard’s words. The warm tender love that Takao gave freely to Shintarou when he spoke. Something the miracle struggled with accepting and returning. Words were never easy for him. Shintarou loved it when Takao knew what he was saying without words. He had found somebody who could understand him completely.

Shintarou liked to hear Takao. In the cover of the dark, in the tangled mess of the bedsheets Shintarou could hear Takao. He could hear the way his voice would catch just as Shintarou’s fingers found their target, curving to rub the sensitive flesh inside of him. Shintarou could hear the rasp of Takao’s breath around his name as he came, the pure feeling fed into the word. Shintarou loved it when Takao said his name. He wanted to hear it always.

Shintarou liked to hear Takao. He could hear the soft wonder in Takao’s voice as he marvelled at the sound of his heart, tapping his fingers on Shintarou’s chest to its beat. Shintarou was always listening to Takao, even as he slept, the quiet contented puffs of breath against his bare skin, so peaceful and steady. Shintarou loved it when Takao was loud, but he also loved it when Takao was quiet, because even without words he spoke volumes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobs*
> 
> I love them far too much.


	4. Smell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kise and Kasamatsu indulge in their sense of smell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very hard to write about bodily smells and not make them gross sounding D:
> 
> Atleast when it pertains to sweaty basketball playing boys.

Kasamatsu loved the way Kise smelled. Kise smelled like the sun, warm and bright. He never needed cologne or fancy perfumes, just himself after a day at the beach or playing basketball. Kasamatsu loved to bury his face in Kise’s golden locks, inhaling the scent of shampoo and sun warmed hairspray from his last modelling shoot. Kasamatsu knew Kise’s smell like the back of his hand. It was nostalgia on a summer day.

Kasamatsu loved the way Kise smelled. After practice when Kise would throw his arm around him, sweaty and damp. The blonde could never smell bad he reckoned, even his sweat had the scent of a wooded forest in the fall, fragrant and cool. Of course Kise knew Kasamatsu didn’t mind, the ever observant miracle could read the point guard like a book. Kasamatsu knew Kise’s smell after basketball club. It was his respite after a long hard practice.

Kasamatsu loved the way Kise smelled. Even in bed. The heady musk of their bodies pressed together, thick in the air between them. The scent of their sweat mixing together to create a sweetness that imbued the air where Kasamatsu’s nose pressed into Kise’s neck, licking and sucking marks into his skin. Kasamatsu knew Kise’s smell even in the heat of passion. High from the pheromones, he could feel it like a drug.

Kasamatsu love the way Kise smelled. Late at night when Kise would come home from a modelling shoot, tired, and smelling of cloying perfumes and makeup. Just a reminder of the dedication and strength of the blonde. Kasamatsu would sit behind him in the shower, their moment of solitude, washing away the strong fragrances until it was just Kise left. Kasamatsu knew Kise’s smell even when masked by other scents. His strength was unparalleled.

* * *

Kise had a good nose when it came to Kasamatsu. A freshly showered Kasamatsu always smelled like sandalwood and clean linens, but he liked after practice Kasamatsu best. After practice Kasamatsu smelled like basketball and something sharper, something dark, something that warmed him down to his toes. Kise always loved Kasamatsu’s scent after practice. Keeping him grounded, it reminded Kise of how lucky he was to have him.

Kise had a good nose when it came to Kasamatsu. He knew when the boy had been shopping, his clothes smelling of new plastic from the CD store and the treated wood from new guitars. Quickly followed by him eagerly telling Kise about the new guitar he saw or playing the new CD he bought. Kise always loved Kasamatsu’s scent at the end of a long day. It always told him so much about the boy he loved.

Kise had a good nose when it came to Kasamatsu. When the smell of sex permeated the room, the sounds of their panting loud in the silence. Something in the air changed when they were together like this, Kasamatsu’s cock slick against his own between their entangled fingers. Something fragrant with undertones of the forest, intoxicating and dark. Kise always loved Kasamatsu’s scent when they made love. It was something only they could create together.

Kise had a good nose when it came to Kasamatsu. He knew the shampoo Kasamatsu used to wash Kise’s hair was his own, a silent declaration in Kasamatsu’s own way. Kise loved the clean fresh smell of the soap used to wash his back, like the cool breeze on a fresh spring day, something so completely Kasamatsu in scent. Kise always loved Kasamatsu’s scent in the shower. It was the strength he needed to keep going even when he felt lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this turned out well!


	5. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagami and Aomine indulge in their sense of touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually the hardest one to write D: I really thought it would be the easiest.

Kagami wanted to touch Aomine. Even after a game of basketball, when he was drenched in sweat and panting from exertion. Kagami loved the feel of Aomine’s sweat under his hands, his muscles contracting and flexing beneath his fingers. He would marvel at the feel of wet coppery skin, smooth and sleek against his own rough fingers. Kagami needed to touch Aomine after basketball practice. Drunk on the firm solid proof that Aomine was there, that he was his.

Kagami wanted to touch Aomine. He wanted to run his fingers through short and surprisingly soft navy blue hair tousled by a night of sleep. He adored Aomine’s hair, the soft strands so fine and silky between his fingers. Even sweat damp, Kagami found himself rubbing his fingers through it. Kagami needed to touch Aomine’s hair. He needed those dark blue strands between his fingers like he needed basketball.

Kagami wanted to touch Aomine. He couldn’t get enough of the feel of the bluenette’s cock in his hand, scorching hot against his skin, damp with precome. The feel of the soft tanned skin there, pulsing and throbbing with his arousal. Kagami loved Aomine like this, his hard body, strung taught against him, arms tense with restraint. Kagami needed to touch Aomine’s body. There was nothing like the feel of the strong muscles of his lover against his own body.

Kagami wanted to touch Aomine. On bright sunny days on the basketball court, when tanned skin glistened with sweat. Playing one-on-one their bodies pressing together as they worked to block and stop eachother from scoring. This was how he loved Aomine best. A stark reminder of where they came from and where they were going. Kagami needed to touch Aomine to keep himself going. The person who pushed him to do his best and never give up.

* * *

Aomine couldn’t stop touching Kagami. Even when they were out shopping, buying ingredients for Teriyaki burgers. Aomine loved the feel of Kagami’s hand in his own, calloused fingers gripping his, covertly between them as they wandered down the grocery store aisle. Aomine would always touch Kagami, even in public. The feel of fingers so like his own entangled in assurance that he was actually wanted and loved.

Aomine couldn’t stop touching Kagami. He loved Kagami’s hair, so red and fiery like the boy’s personality. Fingers gripping, pulling the short spikey strands so he could touch and kiss the strong column of Kagami’s neck. Kagami’s skin was always so warm against his mouth, sticky with sweat from their activities. Aomine would always touch Kagami when they were together. The heat of the redhead kept him warm on the cold nights.

Aomine couldn’t stop touching Kagami. Even when it was Kagami’s hands on him, his were doing their own wandering. Fingers gliding through coarse dark red hair, over rippling abs and muscles that moved and shifted under his touch. He could never keep his hands away from Kagami’s ass. So smooth and round, it fit perfectly into his hands. Aomine would always touch Kagami in bed. After all it was where he could touch unconditionally.

Aomine couldn’t stop touching Kagami. After a long hot day playing basketball, all Aomine wanted to do was get his hands on his lover. The temptation of his body so close everytime they played was too good to pass up by the end. Playing basketball with Kagami, was a feeling like no other. Aomine would always touch Kagami when they played basketball. Kagami had dragged him out of a dark place of his life, and lit up his world.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to chat I'm usually around on discord @Slyst#4186


End file.
